


As Far As We Go

by crossingwinter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: Lyanna Stark had been babysitting for Elia Martell for about three weeks, and already she’d come to understand three things about her.





	As Far As We Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Netgirl_y2k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netgirl_y2k/gifts).



-I-

“And make sure Aegon eats his vitamins. He doesn’t like them.”

“Got it.”

“And Rhaenys will try and bring the cat outside with her. I don’t want it to leave the house. It’s an indoor cat and is used to the city and she’ll be heartbroken if it runs away.”

“Sounds good.”

“I have my keys. I have my wallet. I have my phone. I have my brain….” Elia smiled through exhausted eyes. “Thanks so much again. I know it’s short notice.”

Lyanna shrugged. “I was free. Don’t worry about it. Go sue your ex.”

Elia’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “You make it sound more exciting than it is.”

“Well, someone’s got to.”

With a wave, Elia departed and thirty seconds later, Lyanna heard the sound of her putting the car in gear and backing down the driveway.

Lyanna Stark had been babysitting for Elia Martell for about three weeks, and already she’d come to understand three things about her. The first was that her husband had been good to her, had liked her, had been friendly with her, had never hit her—which had only made the fact of the divorce that much harder. How to explain to people that it wasn’t working when it was a matter of subtlety—that over the past few years he’d just stopped giving a fuck and Elia had refused to tolerate that any further?

The second was that she was precise in all things. She was a consultant and self-employed, and everything—from her computer desktop to her bookshelves to her silverware drawers—was impeccably organized. Considering that she had a son who was only just older than Jon and a daughter who was midway through her Terrible Twos, Lyanna was routinely astonished at how orderly Elia Martell’s life was, _especially_ given that she’d just moved to the suburbs to be closer to her brothers during the divorce.

And lastly was that she was one of the warmest people Lyanna had ever met. After the initial introduction and interview for the babysitting gig—“ _I need you to be flexible. I understand that’s a big ask, but things are hectic in my life, and I need to make sure my children are taken care of. Ordinarily I’d ask Oberyn—and I know he’d drop everything to help, but that’s just the problem: he’d drop everything. And he has kids of his own to look after…_ ”—Elia had been perhaps the most understanding of any family Lyanna had ever worked for. She didn’t even care that Lyanna brought Jon along. She welcomed it even.

Lyanna crossed the hall into the living room where she found the two baby boys crawling about on the floor and putting blocks into their mouths. Rhaenys was kneeling next to the coffee table with her crayons, drawing a picture.

“What are you drawing?” Lyanna asked her, and Rhaenys looked up at her with big brown eyes that looked just like her mother’s.

“You and mommy,” she said. “And me and Aegon and Jon. And Balerion.”

Lyanna kissed the top of the little girl’s head. The figures were more blobs than people, but she discerned smiles and big eyes. “When you’re done, we’ll have to put it on the fridge. Your mom will love it.” Especially because Rhaegar wasn’t there.

Rheanys beamed at her, and Lyanna beamed back. She glanced over at the boys. “Jon— _no._ ” He had broken off one of the sides of the plastic block and looked as though he was about to shove it in his eye.

Jon giggled happily as she plucked the block from his hands. He thought it was a game. He always thought it was a game. He was a sweet baby—Elia had commented on it once. “ _He’s better behaved than Aegon is, but I guess he doesn’t have any blood ties to Oberyn so that’d explain that nice and easily._ ”

“ _You haven’t met Brandon. I bet he could go toe to toe with Oberyn about instilling wildness in his nephew._ ”

Brandon still didn’t understand why she’d kept him. Her father had barely spoken to her about it. He was old fashioned, and thought that anyone with a kid should be married to the father. The idea of his daughter getting drunk and hooking up with a stranger after a concert and then keeping the kid was beyond his capacities. Though Rickard Stark definitely didn’t approve of abortion, he would have condoned a “don’t ask, don’t tell,” to get rid of Jon. And Lyanna would have thought she would have too…except she hadn’t.

She hadn’t, and now she had him in her life and he liked shoving things in his eyes and mouth and he drooled _everywhere_ and she loved him so much it hurt sometimes. Ned said she should find a steadier job than babysitting, that she should finish her degree, that she should get her life together, that he and Cat could help with childcare, but it wasn’t the same as being able to spend hours with this boy.

Elia had understood that though. Elia had said “yes” instantly and emphatically the moment she’d asked if she could bring her son over when she was with the kids. And for that, Lyanna would be forever grateful.

* * *

 

Elia sent her a text message in the late afternoon.

_Elia Martell: Would you kill me if I had dinner with my brothers while I’m out? If you have plans I understand._

_Lyanna Stark: Go for it. I’ll get them set up with dinner._

And she did. She gave Aegon and Jon a bath and then got them both settled for bed. Aegon was a fussier sleeper than Jon was, but she’d learned last week that if the two of them were in the same crib at the same time, he slept a little easier. It was the same with Ned’s boy Robb, who was the same age as these two.

Then she went and found Rhaenys, and began reading her a story before bed.

“Will mommy be home soon?” Rhaenys asked her.

“Yes,” Lyanna said, patting the girl’s hair. “She’s having dinner with your uncles. She’ll be back before you know it.”

“Will she be back before I go to sleep?”

“How good are you at sleeping?”

Rhaenys chewed her lip. “Better than Aegon,” she said at last.

“Well then, if you’re too good at sleeping you may miss her. But she’ll be here to wake you up in the morning.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“She won’t go away like daddy?”

“ _She misses her father. A lot,” Elia had warned her during her interview. “She hid under our bed when we were moving. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t understand. She won’t understand. For a while. And it’s not like he’ll be gone from her life forever, but it’s better this way. For now. I think._ ”

“She won’t go away like daddy.”

“Will you go away?”

“For a little bit. I have to take Jon home.”

“I want you to stay.”

That made Lyanna smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

* * *

 

Elia came home by nine o’clock. Lyanna got up from the couch where she’d been reading through her Facebook feed as Elia threw herself in an armchair and stared at the ceiling.

“Well, I think Doran and I finally have Oberyn convinced not to poison him, so that’s good.”

“Poisoning seems like a lot for simply not caring,” Lyanna pointed out.

“On the contrary. According to Oberyn that is the highest of insults, for it is the root of any other ill he could have done—cheating, abuse, whatever…” she smiled. “But I’d personally prefer for my brother not to end up in jail, so I’m glad there’s clarity on that.”

Lyanna let out a snort.

“The kids were ok?” Elia asked at last.

“Honestly I think Jon takes care of Aegon better than I do,” Lyanna laughed. “Though I do have to keep them from swallowing pennies and whatever else they find on the ground.”

“A playmate is good for Aegon. Sometimes I worry that Rhaenys plays more with the cat than with her brother.”

“She loves him. But I think that’s a…fair concern.”

They both laughed.

“I suppose Jon has practice since he has Robb at home.”

Lyanna nodded and checked her phone. Ned and Cat would probably be asleep by the time she and Jon made it back. She’d have to be careful not to wake them when dropping Jon off in the crib with Robb.

“Doran and Oberyn both bring their kids around whenever they can, but it’s not the same as having someone in the same house all the time,” Elia sighed.

“Well, I don’t think either of them will be lonely,” Lyanna said matter-of-factly.

“No,” Elia said immediately. “No, I don’t either. It’s just a lot for Rhaenys to understand, and her brother will never get it—not having his dad all of a sudden. And I worry she blames him. You don’t think she blames him, do you?”

“I don’t think so. I think she’s just quiet. She was quiet the other day with Arianne when Mellario brought her over.”

“Arianne’s older than Rhaenys,” Elia said. “Sometimes age differences mean that…I don’t know. It’s different than it was with me and Doran growing up, I suppose. I’m just jumpy.”

“You don’t know my brother Ned.”

“The one you live with, yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s a few years older than me, and a few years younger than Brandon. He’s quiet, though. Always has been. I think Rhaenys is quiet like Ned. And if she’s not…well, she’ll grow. She’s so young. And as you say, it’s a lot.”

Elia looked at her and sighed. “Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For not being my brothers. If I tried to say that to either of them, poisoning Rhaegar would be back on the table and this time in Rhaenys’ name.”

Lyanna’s laugh turned into a yawn.

“I’ll not keep you,” Elia said quickly. “Thanks so much again for coming in today. I really don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

Later on, when Jon was settled in his baby seat and she was driving home, her phone buzzed. When she hit a red light she checked it, and saw a Venmo payment with the memo _for being an actual perfect human_ from Elia with the payment for the babysitting _._

-II-

The strange thing about Elia was that she felt so instantly like family that Lyanna found herself randomly texting her throughout the week.

_Lyanna Stark: I hate my Lit Crit prof. He’s got his head up his ass._

_Elia Martell: That must make it very hard to hear him. I hear that the body is not a particularly good amplifier._

She’d never had a babysitting gig where she’d done that before, and the first time she sent a text she was horrified and wished she could go back and delete the thought from her brain. But Elia took it in stride.

She had a sharp sense of humor, the sort of wit that Lyanna was not used to. She loved Ned, but he was not one for quick humor. He was too serious sometimes—it was part of what made him and Cat go well together. Brandon’s humor was kind of like a drunk frat boy, and Ben was still too young, sometimes, though he showed promise in terms of cleverness. But it wasn’t like Elia, who could go from making cracks about the resonant space of Professor Tyrell’s anus to clapbacks about smashing the patriarchy in about four seconds. It was incredible to Lyanna.

Furthermore, not long after they’d started texting during the week, Elia started asking Lyanna for advice.

_Elia Martell: Do you know of a good dry cleaner’s in the neighborhood? Doran’s recommendation is really far out of the way and google’s giving me like twenty options._

_Elia Martell: You should try the new halal place on Madison. Their hot sauce is perfect._

_Elia Martell: Can I call you later? I need to talk about Rhaegar and I love Oberyn, I really do, but if he threatens to poison him again I don’t know what I’ll do._

“What’s up?” Lyanna asked when she and Elia connected.

“He asked if he could change his time to Saturday since he’s recording on Friday apparently,” Elia said exasperatedly on the other end of the line. They’ve been divorced for over a year now. Aegon remembers his father between instances of seeing him, and Rhaenys seems to have forgotten her sadness. This is how things are now, and besides she has Jon and Lyanna now and they’re more fun than daddy, even if she loves daddy—or so she’d told Lyanna when Lyanna had picked her up from preschool one day.

“You have your client meeting on Saturday.”

“Yup!” Elia huffs. “All day in town. And ordinarily I’d be glad—it’s easy to hand the kids over for a day and it means you are off the hook, but he says he’s only free until about three because he has a gig to prepare for in the evening and I’m busy until five. And I know you said that you could babysit that day, but you shouldn’t have to deal with Rhaegar’s fucking bullshit because he probably won’t even tell you where he is with the kids until you’re the one running late and _ugh_. I could kill him. Just because he had to go and almost make it in the mainstream and now he thinks he can do whatever he want. It’s so like him. He’s always acted like he’s king of the fucking world or something and really he’s just an inconsiderate fool who forgets that other people’s lives don’t exist to serve his.”

“Yeah, it’s a good thing you didn’t call Oberyn,” Lyanna said, and Elia laughed humorlessly.

“Especially now that Rhaegar’s edging his way into pseudo-celebrity I really don’t want to have E! True Hollywood Stories about how my brother murdered my ex husband. Do they even still have those?”

“I don’t know. I watch most of my TV online these days.”

“Same—when I even have time to watch.” Elia heaved a sigh. “Is it too much to hope he’ll treat you better than me because you’re a third party?”

“I’ll make him treat me just fine. I don’t care if he thinks I’m a bitch,” Lyanna shrugged.

“Lifesaver,” Elia sighed. “Ok—I’ll text you his number.”

“If he’s a particular asshole to me, I’ll leak it to TMZ or something.”

“Don’t even joke about it, because I’m like ninety percent sure that Oberyn actually _would_.”

* * *

 

Rhaegar looked familiar, but Lyanna couldn’t place where she’d seen him before. _Probably a photograph lying around Elia’s house_ , except that Elia had been very careful to rid herself of all photographs of her ex-husband. Maybe there was one in Rhaenys’ room?

He also looked at her strangely as she helped get Rhaenys and Aegon settled in their car seats in the back of Catelyn’s SUV. Thank god for weekends when she could convince Cat to let her borrow it because her car was definitely too small for three car seats.

“What?” Lyanna asked when he was still looking at her even after they’d closed the doors on the kids and gotten the stroller into the trunk. Rhaenys was showing Jon the stuffed panther her father had gotten her at the zoo. She had already named him Big Balerion.

“We’ve met before. You don’t remember?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Lyanna said coolly. “I don’t.”

“Ah,” he said quietly. “Well, thank you for helping out today.” He opened up his wallet and took out a few bills, which he handed to her.

“Elia’s got it covered,” Lyanna said. He raised his eyebrows, and opened his mouth to speak. “If you want to contribute, Venmo her or something. Good luck with your gig.” She climbed into the front seat of the car and turned around to look at the three kids. Aegon was wiggling in his seat, and Jon was petting Big Balerion with Rhaenys, who was making cooing sounds as though he were actually a live cat.

It took her several intersections and Aegon starting to cry in exhaustion to put the weird way that Rhaegar had looked at her out of her mind. She had bigger things to think about than Rhaegar Targaryen.

A summer thunderstorm hit right as they were pulling into Elia’s driveway and the three kids splashed around joyously in the mud (Big Balerion having been given to Lyanna for protection) while Lyanna put the stroller in the garage and got the door into the kitchen unlocked.

“Inside,” she commanded and to absolutely no surprise none of the children listened. She rolled her eyes, put Big Balerion indoors while being careful not to let the real Balerion out into the garage, then went and grabbed Aegon and Jon, tucking one under each arm and marching them into the kitchen while they shrieked with laughter. “Rhaenys, you had better be behind me,” she said.

She was, and she even closed the door behind her as Lyanna set the boys down in the kitchen. “You are both all dirty!” she said, but she wasn’t mad. Both boys were wiggling happily—Aegon’s tiredness forgotten, Jon glad to be with his friend again. “Let’s get your shoes off so you don’t get mud everywhere.”

She got all three cleaned up and put them all down for a nap. Then she texted Elia.

_Lyanna Stark: We’ve got some muddy kids on our hands. I’ve gotten them cleaned up, but I’m now covered in mud so I’m going to steal some of your clothes while mine are in the washer._

_Elia Martell:_

Lyanna went into Elia’s bedroom and paused. She’d never been in here before. She wasn’t—and Elia had made sure that she was clear on this—a maid. She wasn’t supposed to clean up after the kids, or the house, or whatever. Not that that stopped Lyanna from doing some cleaning when necessary, but she’d never gone into Elia’s room before.

She’d expected it to be like Elia: clean and organized.

It wasn’t. There were clothes strewn on a chair by a dresser whose drawers weren’t closed. Scarves that Lyanna recognized as Elia’s hijabs were thrown over the top of the door to the closet and the bed looked like it had never been made ever.

Lyanna smiled. It felt homey. It felt lived in. It felt oddly accessible. She went pulled open one of Elia’s dresser drawers and found a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, which she donned. Both were too small for her. Though Elia was taller than Lyanna, her waist and hips were narrower, and she had smaller breasts. She could wear small sizes in a way Lyanna definitely could not. But it didn’t matter too much for a few hours while her own clothes were in the washing machine. She wasn’t going to be out of the house again until after the storm was likely over.

She left Elia’s room, closing the door slowly and letting her eyes linger for just a moment on a chair by the door where Elia had left her laundry from the day before—a plain white bra with small cups and no underwire, an undershirt with a geometric pattern on it—before it closed completely. Then she went down to the kitchen and poked her head into the freezer, finding some fish sticks and French fries to cook up for dinner when the kids woke up.

She felt something sharp on her ass and let out a yell, whipping around to find the real Balerion behind her, looking affronted that she hadn’t stayed put so that he could continue to stretch, front paws on her rear. “Dumb cat,” she muttered, bending over and stroking behind his ears.

They were still sleeping when Elia got home, and Lyanna’s clothes were midway through the dryer.

“Meeting go ok?” Lyanna asked her, and Elia gave her a tired smile as she tugged her damp hijab from her head.

“Remember to remind me to never work Saturdays again.”

“It’s Shabbat. Shouldn’t be too hard,” Lyanna winked at her.

Elia sighed and leaned against the counter, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. “I think it went ok. I hope it went ok. It’s a really good-paying gig and I’d love to continue it.”

“Even if they make you work Saturdays.”

Elia hummed noncommittally and Lyanna grinned. She bent down and fetched a pan out from under the stove. “I got that,” Elia said, stepping forward.

“You just got home. Take a seat,” Lyanna said. Elia was very close, Lyanna could smell her. Rain did that—made it easier to smell things. “Hell, go take a nap. You’ve been working all day.” Even as she said it, she imagined Elia in that tangle of bedding upstairs, her blankets like a nest, breathing deeply and looking peaceful.

“Rhaegar was ok? Not too much trouble?” Elia asked her.

“No. He’s a weird guy.”

“That’s an understatement,” Elia sighed. “I used to think it was charming. Oh well.”

“Oh well,” Lyanna agreed. “The kids had a good time. They went to the zoo.”

Elia nodded. “He likes taking them there. Rhaenys likes the big cats.”

Elia stooped down and picked up Balerion, who was flitting about, waiting for food. “You’re a lion, aren’t you?” she said to the cat. “A big old lion without a pride, aren’t you?”

“Without pride, more like. He’s begging,” Lyanna laughed. She bent down and grabbed his water bowl to refill—he’d gotten some kernels of cat food in it earlier in the day—and when she turned around, Elia was watching her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Elia replied, a little breathlessly. There was a pink flush creeping up her cheeks and she turned away from Lyanna to deposit Balerion on the floor. “Nothing, I promise. I just…” she sounded flustered. She never sounded flustered.

Lyanna scooped cat food into the food bowl for Balerion, and Elia was spreading French fries out on the pan, even though the oven hadn’t been preheated yet. Lyanna leaned against the counter, watching her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly. “Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Elia replied. Her voice sounded more even now, but also sadder.

“Then why don’t I believe you?”

Elia looked up, her lips parted, and slightly chapped. As though she and Lyanna had noticed at the same time, she sucked them between her teeth, licking them. She was standing so very close, and she smelled so sweet, somehow.

A cry rent the room from the baby monitor and both of them turned to it. It was Jon, and a moment later Aegon’s voice joined him, and Lyanna was crossing the room leaving Elia behind her in the kitchen and feeling completely disoriented.

-III-

It started with a sweet kiss. A sweet kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations!” because four years later than she had meant to and a toddler in tow, Lyanna had finally graduated. A sweet kiss that Lyanna turned her face into—by accident? She’d never know—and which Elia didn’t turn her face away from.

Their kisses cropped up more frequently—when Lyanna was working late and the kids were asleep and Elia crept into the house. They kissed quietly in the doorway. No need to wake Jon up _just_ yet because there was no need to get home right away. No need at all, not with Elia’s lips against hers, and her hands on her hips, and the way her blood was racing in her body and the way that she felt alive.

They stayed up late talking. Elia—it turned out—felt uncomfortable with it. “You’re the babysitter and I’m employing you. It feels all sorts of sticky.” But Lyanna didn’t mind that, and when her lips were at Elia’s neck again, Elia seemed to forget that she minded too.

Elia had never kissed a woman before. Her brother was bisexual, and she had thought she might be too, but it had never mattered because of Rhaegar. “But who needs Rhaegar?” she joked, running her fingers over Lyanna’s cheeks and Lyanna kissed her palm, her wrist, her elbow, her shoulder, her collarbone, hovering her lips over the skin of the boat neckline and wondering…

Lyanna had slept with women, she told Elia as the clock ticked on. She’d been the sort who wanted a hook-up, but didn’t care with whom and had learned fast that perhaps especially when you were drunk, men were just bad at it in a way that women were less so. She’d even had a girlfriend for a few months in high school, though they’d never called it that—it had felt too formal—and she’d never told her family. But that wasn’t what it was with Elia.

Elia was so warm, but so very nervous and the first time that Lyanna took off her own top, Elia hadn’t been able to look away from her breasts in their boring bra. They were still in the living room, and Elia swallowed, and looked to the window, and whispered so quietly Lyanna almost missed it, “Should we go upstairs?”

And they did. They did, and Lyanna unhooked her bra as they walked so that when they reached Elia’s bedroom she’s completely topless and Elia stopped short when she turns around because she apparently hadn’t been expecting that. Lyanna stood very still, and Elia took one step closer, then another. She raised a hand and cups the underside of Lyanna’s breast, sending goosebumps over her skin. She rubbed a thumb over Lyanna’s nipple and Lyanna leaned forward and kissed her, pulled her close and Elia’s hand left her breast to fist in her hair. Lyanna tugged at Elia’s shirt, pushing it up, wanting to feel her skin and Elia stepped back and tugged it over her head. She unhooked her bra and pulled Lyanna to her messy bed, down on top of her, and the two of them giggled quietly because the only noise is the bedsprings, their breathing, and the ambient noise of the baby monitor on the bedstand next to them.

Elia’s hands were running up and down her spine, her hips rolling underneath Lyanna, and Lyanna straddled her and pushed into her hips, sitting up and bending her neck to kiss her way down Elia’s sternum, cupping Elia’s small breasts in her own hands and watching as Elia’s lips parted.

“How far are we going?” she asked quietly, her thumbs tracing circles on Elia’s brown nipples.

Elia opened her eyes. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “As far as we go.” The tone of her voice was distant, and Lyanna wondered for a moment if they were talking about the same thing. _As far as we go…._ It sounded like a dream, of the two of them old and grey looking at pictures of grandchildren together, raising their three kids in the same house since they were already so close.

Elia paused, thinking, and said, “I’ve never done anything with a woman. And I’m not averse to anything really. Because it’s you. But I don’t know what I’m doing.” She bit her lip nervously. “But if you’re asking about consent or whatever…I trust you. And I trust myself to stop it if it’s not right.”

Lyanna bent down and kissed her and she shifted her weight and let her left hand drift down lower and lower until she found the waistband of Elia’s skirt. Elia’s hands left her back and one cuts between them as she finds the hook and eye of it, then unzipped it and Lyanna’s hand dipped further, finding cotton underpants that are already damp and flesh that is so very soft.

Elia’s breath hitched when Lyanna found her clit. “This ok?”

“Yes.”

And she let out a soft moan in the back of her throat as Lyanna started circling. She ground her hips into Lyanna’s hand, and Lyanna dipped two fingers down to Elia’s slit and brings some of the moisture back to her clit. She circled ever so lightly, dropping her lips to Elia’s neck to press kisses there and letting Elia’s hips press into her fingers. Elia palmed one of Lyanna’s breasts and she squeezed it lightly, and Lyanna saw the way her other hand was holding onto one of the blankets. She added a little more pressure between Elia’s legs and she lets out a whimper, a sigh and then Lyanna felt the throbbing, the flexing of Elia’s sex to know that she’d come.

Elia found Lyanna’s lips with hers, her eyes were open, her lips so red, and Lyanna smiled at her. “Thank you,” Elia whispered.

“Are you done?” Lyanna asked quietly.

“I mean, I was going to—”

“No—I just meant…” and she grinned in what she hoped was a cheeky way, “I was hoping to eat you is all.”

Elia cocked her head, thinking. “I might be too tender? I’m not against it, but maybe in a little bit?” Lyanna pressed her fingers against Elia’s clit again, and she gasped. “Yes, definitely too tender. Let me do you first.”

It was such a sweet way of saying it, and Lyanna pulled her hand out from between Elia’s legs. Without breaking eye contact, she put her fingers in her mouth and let herself taste Elia. She tasted tangy, and Lyanna smiled and before her fingers were fully gone, Elia’s lips were against hers again, her tongue was in Lyanna’s mouth and her hands were at the waistband of Lyanna’s jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping, and tugging fabric down her legs. Lyanna kicked the pants and underpants off the rest of the way and Elia did the same with her skirt. They both sat there for a moment completely naked and Elia let her eyes drift down Lyanna’s body and Lyanna let her own do the same. Elia was skinny, but there were stretch marks from two pregnancies on her stomach. She saw a scar as well, hidden before but visible now that she was looking more closely, most likely from Aegon’s c-section. The hair between her legs was dark and fine, and her breasts were small and her nipples were tight and puckered. Lyanna leaned forward and took one in her mouth, her hands grabbing onto Elia’s rear for balance and Elia sighed and runs her hands through Lyanna’s hair.

“How do you want it? I’ve never given oral to a woman before. I’m not sure I’d be good.”

Lyanna paused in her kisses and looked up from between Elia’s breasts. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“You’ll tell me if I do anything wrong?” Elia asked.

“Of course,” Lyanna whispered, and Elia pushed her back on the bed and kissed Lyanna deeply, her hand sliding down between her legs and pushing a finger inside her. She pumped it once or twice, then pulled it out again and moved the finger up to Lyanna’s clit instead.

Her hand was so soft, so gentle, and Lyanna’s eyes closed as Elia rubbed. She let her body relax into Elia’s hand, let her skin tingle with the brush of Elia’s hair on her arm, and the cool rush of Elia’s breath against her neck.

Lyanna shifted her hips, spreading her legs a little wider, pressing her sex up into Elia’s hand. “More?” Elia asked, but before she waited for an answer she presses harder into Lyanna’s clit. Lyanna moaned and twisted her head to kiss whatever part of her she could reach—Elia’s arm as it turned out, since she was leaning up on her elbow. She felt Elia’s lips on her forehead, her hair falling into Lyanna’s face before she pulled back and sat up, her hand leaving Lyanna’s clit as she pulled hair out of her mouth.

Lyanna laughed and leaned over to press a kiss to Elia’s stomach, just next to the c-section scar. “I have an extra hairband,” she said, but Elia was already reaching for the bed stand and grabbing an elastic from the knob of the drawer. Hair tied up, she bent her head to kiss Lyanna again, her hand returning to her sex and Lyanna sighed into her mouth because maybe it was her trying to make up for the pause while she fixed her hair, or maybe it was just her own excitement, but Elia’s hand was working harder now and Lyanna’s heart was racing.

“A little further up?”

“Like this?”

“Yes.” It turned into a hiss and when Elia kissed her neck, she thought she felt her lips quirked in a smile. Lyanna turned her head and nudged Elia’s forehead with her nose. Elia kissed her way along Lyanna’s neck, her jawline, across her cheek until they met Lyanna’s lips and the taste of Elia washed over Lyanna—Elia’s lips, Elia’s tongue, Elia’s breath—they were all somehow so perfect, so sweet on her tongue, so all consuming that for a moment she forgot to breathe—or maybe that was the way that Elia was rubbing her, her circling fingers more insistent on Lyanna’s aching sex and suddenly all the air left her lungs and she found herself gasping for air as her sex throbbed under Elia’s fingers and Elia’s lips hovered over the side of Lyanna’s mouth, breathing gently as Lyanna’s heart pumped faster than it could ever have done surely…

She lay there for a moment, her whole body feeling warm, and relaxed. She opened her eyes and looked at Elia, who was watching her closely, her eyes black in the dim light of the bedroom.

Lyanna sat up and cupped Elia’s face in her hands, bringing her lips to hers. Elia wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close, and Lyanna ran the tips of her fingers up and down Elia’s cheeks.

“I like this,” Elia whispered to her. “I know I shouldn’t. But I do.”

“I said it’s fine,” Lyanna said, rolling her eyes.

“I meant…I meant in the sense that it’s scary. To care about someone like I care about you so soon after Rhaegar. Especially since Rhaenys and Aegon love you so much.”

“I’d think that would make it easier,” Lyanna replied slowly.

“It does. And it doesn’t. It’s scary. That’s why it’s scary.”

Lyanna nodded, and kissed Elia again. “Well,” she said slowly. “I’m not going anywhere. And I promise I’m not just going to stop caring one day. That’s not how I roll.”

Elia kissed her again, and it was a lazy kiss, a slow one. Lyanna brought her hands down to Elia’s waist and ran her thumbs back and forth over Elia’s skin. Even without the pressure of an impending orgasm, Elia’s lips tasted so sweet.

“Do you still want me to?” she asked quietly. “Or are you too tender still?”

Elia shifted slightly, cocking her head. “I can’t tell,” she said, then her smile turned half-wicked. “Let’s find out?”

Lyanna kissed her again and then gently pushed Elia back against the pillows. She kissed her way down her torso, between her breasts, over her belly button, nuzzling the hair over her sex until her lips were hovering over her slit. She shifted her own body so she was lying flat on her stomach and pulled Elia’s knees a little bit wider. She ran a finger up and down Elia’s sex and looked up as she ran her finger over Elia’s clit. She heard Elia’s breath hitch, and that hitch turned into a gasp when Lyanna leaned forward and flicked her tongue across it.

There it was again, that tangy flavor, salt and sweat and sex. She started off light and slow, her tongue swirling across that bundle of nerves, a finger tracing the outside of Elia’s labia, letting her mind wander over the possibility of slipping two fingers inside her and curling them in to her g-spot while she licked and sucked. It was a tempting thought, but from the way that Elia was already breathing it sounded as though she was closer than either of them had expected and that—that was a move to save for when there was more time for Elia to enjoy it. So instead she kept her kisses light, kept her touch light, smiled into the way that Elia rocked her hips against Lyanna’s lips, the way she shifted her legs as if to present her clit up, less obstructed by the rest of her sex.

Elia whispered something indistinct as Lyanna sucked her clit between her lips, and Lyanna pulled away and nudged her clit with her nose. “What was that?” she asked, but it didn’t matter because Elia let out a stifled cry and pulled herself away from Lyanna’s lips, her breath ragged, and when Lyanna looked up to see her face, her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed.

“Holy shit,” she muttered after a minute.

“Good?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever come that fast,” she said. “Holy shit.”

Lyanna snorted. “Well, my job’s done then,” she said and let Elia guide her back up from between her legs. She settled on top of Elia for a moment, and Elia brushed wisps of hair out of her face before kissing her.

It tasted so perfect together—the remaining tanginess of her sex and the sweetness of her lips, blending together just like that. She could kiss her forever. She _would_ kiss her forever. _As far as we go,_ Lyanna thought. And smiled.


End file.
